Honeymoon Hell
by Aini NuFire
Summary: A demon is targeting newlyweds, and TFW is on the case. But this foe might be more than they can handle…and has a bone to pick with a certain angel. S5 case!fic, one shot


**A/N: For NightHaunter15, who requested this fic a** ** _long_** **time ago, and I'm sorry it's taken me forever to write it. Part of the reason I put it off was because the prompt made for an excellent Valentine's Day fic, so I was waiting for the proper season. Anyway, here it is finally, and I hope you like it!**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine. Warnings for implied torture of random people, but this is** ** _Supernatural_** **, so, you know, not uncommon. Set in season 5. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading.**

* * *

"Honeymoon Hell"

Dean examined his reflection in the Impala's driver side window, adjusting his tie and smoothing his hair.

"Dude, seriously?"

Dean straightened. "What? It's Valentine's Day, Sammy. There is some hot, lonely chick out there just waiting to be comforted on this otherwise black day." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "Maybe two hot, lonely chicks."

Sam rolled his eyes. "We're here on a case."

Dean waved a dismissive hand. "A woman married some schmuck and couldn't wait past the wedding night to kill him for his money. Standard black widow."

"Except she claimed a demon murdered her new husband," Sam pointed out. "Look, we're here, so let's just go talk to her."

Dean shrugged. He thought the case was thin, but it brought them to Las Vegas for the loneliest night of the year. And since the Apocalypse was looming, Dean could think of no better place to spend Valentine's Day than Sin City.

He and Sam entered the police station where the newly pronounced Mrs. Haslett was being held for the murder of her husband. The sheriff didn't seem to think the FBI needed to look into the case at all, but after some needling, showed them to the cell block.

Casey Haslett was dressed in a pale blue jumpsuit, her hair askew from what had probably been a fancy updo for her wedding night the evening prior, and there were still mascara smudges under her eyes.

"Mrs. Haslett," Sam greeted. "I'm Agent Hanaway, this is Agent Hunt. We're sorry for your loss."

The woman nibbled absently at her bottom lip, and cast them a tremulous look.

"Can you tell us what happened last night?" Sam prompted.

She threw a quick glance down the corridor. "No one believes me," she whispered. "They think I killed Tom." Her voice cracked into a warble, and Dean had to admit it didn't quite sound faked.

"Just tell us what you saw," Dean said. "We're pretty open-minded."

Casey continued to glance nervously at the door on the other end of the hall as she chewed on her lip. Then she surged from the bench seat and came over to grasp the bars. "I was in the bathroom changing into…" Her cheeks flushed scarlet. "A special something, for our honeymoon. And- and then I heard screaming." Tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over and smear her mascara even worse. "I came out and he was…there was so much blood," she sobbed.

"Was there anyone else in the room?" Sam asked. "Or did you smell anything strange, like sulfur?"

Casey had begun to shake, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the bars. "There was a man," she said in a hushed voice. "All I remember was glowing red eyes. And one minute he was there, and the next he wasn't. He wasn't human," she hissed desperately.

Dean exchanged a look with his brother.

"Uh, thank you," Sam said.

Casey recoiled a step. "You don't believe me."

"No, we do," Dean assured her. "Did Tom come into a fortune recently? Or has something gone surprisingly well for him lately that maybe seemed too good to be true?"

Casey frowned at him. "I don't know what you mean. We couldn't afford a big wedding; that's why we came to Vegas. And getting married was the biggest thing to happen to both of us."

Hm, Dean wondered if Tom had sold his soul to get the girl. But getting killed so soon after a deal was made wasn't standard procedure for Crossroads demons. Unless the mark was _really_ a sap.

The door at the end of the hall swung open and the sheriff stuck his head in. "Uh, Agents, can I have a word?"

Dean and Sam left Casey in her cell and headed back out to the bullpen. The sheriff closed the door behind them.

"We just got a call about another murder," he said. "Same as the first."

Dean's brows rose sharply. Crap, at this rate he wasn't going to be able to go trolling for a date. So much for a happy Valentine's Day.

They got the address of the motel and followed the sheriff to the scene. The place was a step up from the usual dives the Winchesters frequented, but the honeymoon suite was completely decked out in cheesy paraphernalia: heart splattered wallpaper, bronze turtledove light fixtures, and a royal red bedcover. The bedspread was so bright, actually, that it was difficult to see the blood stains which must surely have coated it, given the half naked man sprawled across the mattress with a slashed throat and hole in his chest.

A young brunette was sitting in the corner on a plush beanbag chair, a ratty robe barely concealing the lacy lingerie underneath. She had flecks of arterial spray on her cheek. Dean and Sam headed over, dismissing the uniformed officer currently watching over her.

"Ma'am," Sam said gently. "I'm Agent Hanaway. I know you've been through a lot tonight, but would you mind going over again what happened? It would really help."

"I- I don't know," she stammered. Her eyes kept flicking toward the bed, so Dean shifted to block the disturbing sight. The slight movement caused her to jerk her gaze up at him instead. "There was a man in our room. He- he actually kinda looked like Brad Pitt. I thought maybe it was a wedding gag, you know?"

Dean arched a brow, but kept silent.

The woman's eyes darkened with remembered horror. "But then his eyes glowed red, and he- he-" She started hiccuping over her words, and Sam reached out to brace her shoulder.

"Easy, it's okay. We're sorry to put you through that again."

She nodded jerkily and dabbed at her eyes. Sam caught Dean's gaze, and they stepped out to the room's balcony, away from the crime scene techs and other police officers.

"Sounds like this thing is going after newlyweds," Sam said in a low voice.

"Red eyes sounds like a Crossroads demon," Dean added. "But…I don't know, that doesn't feel right."

"Yeah, no," Sam agreed. "So what do we do?"

Dean really wanted to finish this case sooner rather than later, preferably before the night was over, so he pulled out his phone and waggled his brows with a grin. "We call in our resident demon ass-kicker."

They waited until they left the scene, of course, before calling Cas and asking him to come out. The angel was currently off searching for God, but since the Big Guy seemed pretty intent on staying unfound, Dean figured Cas could spare a few minutes to help them out. Dean had no sooner finished telling him the address of the diner they were parked outside of when Cas suddenly appeared in front of him. At least the guy was prompt.

Sam was inside the diner getting coffee, so Dean proceeded to fill Cas in on the details of their case. He'd just about finished when Sam came back out at a slightly hurried pace.

"Sheriff called and said _another_ couple was just attacked. Same MO."

"Crap," Dean uttered. "This demon is wasting no time." He took the coffee his brother offered him and knocked back a long drag.

Cas's brows were knitted together in intense thought, which wasn't exactly an unusual look for him. "This sounds like a specific demon's work, but…" He trailed off, gaze drifting to the side with some internal contemplation.

Dean gestured impatiently. "Care to share with the class?"

Cas looked back up at him and squinted, and Dean rolled his eyes at how easy it was to throw the angel off with simple human phrases.

"You know the demon who's probably behind this?" Sam prompted.

Cas turned his attention to him. "The demon Asmodeus took particular pleasure in targeting humans who'd just taken union vows. He was prominent in Assyria and Babylon, until he became obsessed with an Israelite woman by the name of Sarah, and killed seven of her successive husbands on their wedding nights before they could consummate the marriage."

Dean arched his brows. "Seven? You'd think she would have given up after number three."

"Dude," Sam chided.

"What? I'm just sayin'."

"It was a different culture. If a woman's husband died, his closest male relative was supposed to take her as his wife, so she'd be provided for."

Dean shook his head dubiously; that sounded on the weird side to him. "Well, we need to kill this Asmodeus because it looks like he's ready to go on a spree again."

"Asmodeus is a powerful demon," Cas said. "He's known as a prince of Hell. The last time the angels faced him, we only managed to bind him in the desert." Cas glanced away, expression pinching. "He must have gotten free when Lucifer was released."

 _Awesome_. Like they didn't have enough to worry about.

"Well, we're in the desert," Dean pointed out. "So can you bind him or whatever again?"

Cas leveled a rather disgruntled look at him. "Even when I wasn't cut off from Heaven, I wasn't able to take on a demon of his caliber. It took Raphael's power to seal him in his prison."

Dean snorted. "Well, we can't call him down again." Their last face-to-face had ended with the archangel threatening Cas, and the little angel showing quite the level of irreverent sass that would have made Dean proud if he hadn't been about to shit his pants at the time.

"No," Cas agreed grimly. "We will have to try to kill Asmodeus on our own."

Dean exchanged a wary look with Sam. Well, they'd faced worse…

He clapped his hands together, eager to get this over with. "Alright, how do we find this douchenozzle?"

"Check out wedding chapels?" Sam suggested. "Try to find his next victim."

"Right, how hard could that be?"

He should have known better. Vegas was famous for its shotgun wedding venues, but there was one on practically _every_ block. Not only that, there was a friggin' _line_ of couples waiting to get hitched.

"Damn Valentine's Day," Dean muttered as they rolled up and down the streets in the Impala. He never thought he'd curse his favorite holiday, but this Asmodeus demon was ruining it for everyone.

Sam gazed out the window helplessly. "Should we, like, start pulling fire alarms or something? There's no way we can cover all these places, or people."

Cas suddenly leaned forward from the backseat and reached out to point over Sam's shoulder. "That woman there. She bears a striking resemblance to Sarah."

Dean took his foot off the gas and tried to follow Cas's direction. It wasn't like he knew what this Sarah had looked like thousands of years ago, though.

Sam, however, perked up. "The brunette?"

"Yes," Cas confirmed.

Sam threw a glance at Dean. "She also looks like the first two vics."

Dean shrugged. Guess this demon had a type. He parked along the curb and the three of them waited for Mr. and Mrs. Right to finish getting married—by Elvis, according to the signage. Dean was starting to have some serious doubts about this town.

Finally, though, the happy couple emerged, laughing and beaming and bubbly with _luvve_. Too bad they were probably about to have a very bad night.

Dean quietly got out of the car and went around to the trunk where he hurriedly got out some cans of spray paint, holy water, and their weapons. He surreptitiously tucked the demon-killing knife inside his jacket and slammed the trunk closed. Then he, Sam, and Cas, started following the tipsy couple back to their motel. Just like their ceremony, it was cheap.

Cas took Dean and Sam by the shoulders and flew them straight into the room. The happy couple was already on the bed starting to get it on, but jerked in surprise at suddenly finding an audience. At least they hadn't gotten their clothes off yet. The woman opened her mouth to scream, but Cas stepped forward and pressed two fingers to each of their foreheads, and they slumped back against each other.

Dean tossed one of the cans of spray paint to his brother and quickly started clearing a space in the middle of the room while Sam started painting the lines of a Devil's Trap on the ceiling. Dean climbed on top of a glass coffee table, leery of it supporting his weight, and hurried to help finish the trap. Knowing Asmodeus's MO, he'd be showing any minute. Cas was fidgeting nervously.

"Done," Sam announced.

Dean hopped off the coffee table and pushed it aside. "Okay, uh…" He glanced around. "Bathroom." He ushered Cas inside, Sam right behind them. It was a tight fit, and the smell of the potpourri was threatening to make Dean sneeze, but he held his breath and listened intently. Sam had left the door open a crack, but his large frame obstructed any view of the bedroom. Then he stiffened, and held up a hand for everyone to keep absolutely still.

"Hello, lovebirds," a new voice spoke. "I'm here to deliver a wedding gift… What the…"

Sam opened the door and surged out of the bathroom, Dean and Cas on his heels. They barreled out, and Dean got his first look at the demon asshat who was ruining Valentine's day…and he kinda did look like Brad Pitt.

The demon stood directly underneath the Devil's Trap, which he'd been staring at incredulously before he whipped his gaze toward the Winchesters. He pulled his lips back, baring his teeth. "Hunters. How…irritating."

"Cas," Dean said, but the angel was already striding toward the unconscious couple. With a single touch, he sent them away to somewhere safe.

The demon hissed. " _Angel_ ," he spat.

"Asmodeus," Cas responded, drawing his shoulders back.

Asmodeus angled an unconcerned look up at the ceiling. "This trap won't hold me long."

Dean pulled out the demon knife. "Don't need long." He lunged forward, aiming for the heart, but Asmodeus was stronger than he'd anticipated, and caught both of Dean's arms mid-strike. He grunted as he strained to get the blade closer.

"Silly mortal," the demon sneered. "Not even the angels could defeat _me_." He heaved Dean off the ground and flung him across the room. Luckily, he landed on the bed instead of the glass coffee table.

Cas's angel blade slipped into his hand and he charged at Asmodeus. The demon merely grinned and ducked under Cas's swing, then drove his elbow back into the angel's shoulder. Cas slammed into the wall face first, but kept his feet.

Sam helped Dean scramble off the bed while Cas attacked again. Asmodeus threw his arm up to block, the angel blade hovering inches from his face.

"I remember you," Asmodeus snarled. He grabbed a fistful of Cas's shirt and spun him around, flinging him onto the floor with their arms still locked. "I spent centuries buried in the desert because of you and those other winged worms!"

Dean raised his knife to intervene, but Asmodeus whipped his head up with a growl and flicked his wrist. An invisible force punched Dean in the chest and sent both him and Sam flying into the wall. Blackness exploded across his vision momentarily as he crashed to the floor, but he tried to blink it away. He saw Asmodeus rip Cas's angel blade from his hand and toss it straight up. The tip buried itself in one of the paint lines with enough force to crack the ceiling, thereby disabling the trap.

 _Shit, shit, shit_.

Dean scrabbled to his feet, but before he could cross the room, Asmodeus grabbed Cas by the lapels of his coat and leaned down.

"I think I'll take my revenge now."

And then he disappeared with a pop, taking Cas with him.

Dean staggered over to where they'd been, gaping at the empty space. He whirled to meet his brother's wide and panicked expression, which certainly mirrored his own.

Crap, this was bad. _Really_ bad.

* * *

Castiel gagged on the cloying vapors of the void as the demon wrenched him through it. It spat them out only an instant later, but Castiel landed in a tumble from the disorientation. He knew he had to get up, had to fight. He'd lost his angel blade, but he still attempted to drunkenly get to his feet. A fist smashed into his cheek, propelling him to the ground. His palms scraped across concrete.

He pushed himself up, but a kick to the stomach flipped him over onto his back. Castiel tried to blink the stars from his vision, the tang of copper trickling down the back of his throat. Never mind fight, he needed to flee. Castiel snapped his wings out.

A hand smashed down on his chest, and suddenly fire speared through him. Castiel threw his head back and screamed as searing agony ripped through his vessel down to his true form and the air exploded with blazing orange light.

"Wouldn't want you leaving the party so soon," Asmodeus's voice rumbled as he removed his hand.

Castiel gasped and sputtered, every nerve ending still burning. He could no longer feel his wings. Or his grace. Panting raggedly, Castiel lifted his head enough to see bloody score marks peeking out from underneath his shirt. What had the demon done…?

There was a metallic rattle, and then Asmodeus was grabbing Castiel by the throat and yanking him up. The demon slammed him back against a cement pillar and lashed a chain around him several times. Castiel had barely been strong enough against the demon in the motel, but now he felt utterly drained, utterly powerless. The thick iron links pressed against whatever wounds had been carved into his chest, sending more jolts of fire through him.

Asmodeus finished by looping the chain under Castiel's chin and stretching it taut so that Castiel's head was forced up in a painful position. His arms were pinned at his sides, the tightness of the chains keeping him standing more than his own power. Now that he was upright, he noticed that they were in some dingy building, perhaps a basement, as there was no light.

Asmodeus stepped back to appraise him. Castiel couldn't even swallow nervously with the chain pressed up against his jugular. At least Asmodeus hadn't kept the angel blade, so he wouldn't be able to kill Castiel. But that was little comfort in light of what the demon likely had in store for him.

"I always did enjoy an audience," Asmodeus said. "It's one reason I always leave the women alive." His face cracked into a grin. "That, and the sounds of their wailing is like music to my ears."

Castiel didn't respond. He was completely helpless, and he could only imagine the hatred Asmodeus had harbored and stoked over the centuries. It had taken multiple angels to hold the demon down while Raphael performed the binding, but Castiel had been one of them.

Asmodeus stepped closer, his hot, putrid breath wafting over Castiel's face. "I think I'll make you watch."

And then he was gone. Castiel blinked, suddenly alone in the drafty basement, chained and trapped. He barely had a moment to wonder why when Asmodeus returned, depositing a young man and woman at his feet. The man wore a tuxedo, and the woman a nice dress with white flowers in her hair. They scrambled away from the demon, eyes wide and terrified.

"What's going on?" the man demanded.

"Congratulations on the nuptials!" Asmodeus exclaimed, clapping his hands together once. Then his eyes darkened, and he stretched out a hand toward the groom, crooking his fingers like talons. The man began to choke, and fell onto his knees. The woman shrieked and dropped down beside him, begging the demon to stop.

"But we're just getting started."

Castiel was unable to look away as Asmodeus began to rip the humans apart.

* * *

"Come on, come on," Dean muttered, steering the Impala with one hand while trying to follow the map on his phone in the other. He'd pulled up the GPS on Cas's phone, never more grateful that he'd upgraded the angel to an unlimited data plan after the running out of minutes became an issue. Unfortunately, Cas was on the other side of town out on the periphery, and there were so many streets that Dean was having a difficult time navigating which turn to take. And the night life traffic of Sin City was slowing them down.

Dean took a sharp right and slammed on the brakes a split second before he hit some pedestrians jaywalking. "Dammit!"

Sam glanced up from his own phone, but then quickly snapped his attention back to it. "Okay, I think I found something." His face scrunched up. "We need to stop at a natural foods market."

"Are you freakin' kidding me?" Dean snarled. He blared his horn at the people taking their dear sweet time getting across the street. "That son-of-a-bitch has Cas and you want to stop for groceries?"

Sam shot him an angry bitch-face. "If we're gonna have any chance of saving Cas, we need something to give us an advantage over Asmodeus. I found the lore about when the angels bound him in the desert, and first this guy Tobias burned a fish's heart and liver on cinders to weaken the demon."

Dean clenched his hand tighter around the steering wheel. "Yeah, alright." Sam was right; they needed to go in armed with _something_ that would give them an up, because their first shot at the demon had gone to shit, and that was _with_ a Devil's Trap already in place.

Dean glanced at the small red dot on his phone's screen. _Hang on, Cas, we're coming_.

* * *

Castiel tried to close his eyes, tried to shut out the slaughter, but every time he did, Asmodeus would do something to make the woman scream louder, and Castiel would snap his eyes open, unable to stop himself.

"You have to watch, angel. Even if I have to cut off your eyelids."

Castiel would rather the demon turn his attentions to him if it meant the humans would be spared. But it would only postpone the inevitable.

After what seemed like eternity, Asmodeus tossed the woman's limp body on the floor. If she was still alive, it wouldn't be for much longer. Her husband had gone quite a while ago. The demon leaped to his feet and marched over to Castiel, gripping his chin hard enough to bruise.

"I didn't think angels were squeamish," he taunted, and brought a blood-coated finger up to Castiel's cheek. The slick liquid was cold as the demon traced it down his skin. Castiel's stomach turned.

"Shall I find another charming couple?" Asmodeus continued. "Or shall we have a little fun just the two of us?"

"You'll draw the attention of the angels eventually," Castiel ground out.

Asmodeus laughed. "With Lucifer running free? I doubt that. And _why_ haven't they come for you yet? Why were you down in the trenches with two human hunters?"

Castiel gritted his teeth. He would not give this demon anything.

Asmodeus tsked. "I'll have to see about loosening that tongue." He brought his hand down to sweep across Castiel's torso, back and forth as though he couldn't decide where to start first. Castiel clenched his jaw and braced himself.

The door on the other side of the room banged open, and Asmodeus whirled. Castiel gaped as Sam and Dean came charging down the short steps.

"How did you…?" the demon started as he strode forward to meet them.

Castiel's heart leaped into his throat as Dean lunged with the demon knife. Asmodeus casually flicked his wrist, and sent the Winchester flying into the wall.

The demon cast a gleeful look over his shoulder at Castiel. "Oh, this will be fun. You get to watch me flay these two next."

Castiel struggled futilely against the chains as Asmodeus turned back to Dean. He'd failed to pay attention to Sam, however, who had crouched down at the base of the steps with a sheet of butcher paper. A moment later, red-hot cinders began to glow in the dark room, and the smell of cooking meat wafted up with a smoky vapor. Castiel's eyes widened as he recognized it.

Asmodeus jerked to a stop. He whipped his head toward the younger Winchester and took a menacing step toward him, only to stagger and grunt as the smoke reached him. The demon began to writhe where he stood, the stench of sizzling flesh adding its mix to the air.

Dean stumbled to his feet, adjusted his hold on the demon knife, and threw himself at Asmodeus. The hunter plunged the blade straight into the demon's chest, and Asmodeus threw his head back with a gargled gasp. Orange light flickered throughout his body. Dean twisted the blade before yanking it out, and Asmodeus let out one final scream as he convulsed and finally dropped like a sack of lead on the floor.

Silence fell over the basement. After a moment, the Winchesters began to move. Sam hurried to the two humans, but didn't linger; they'd already passed.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, and sprinted over. He reached up to try yanking the chains down. Sam rushed over and was able to reach whatever notch Asmodeus had secured them to, because the next second, the links around Castiel's throat fell away, and he started coughing.

"Hey, hey," Dean said, ducking in close as he and Sam pulled the rest of the chains off. "You okay?"

Castiel started to sag, unable to remain standing. His chest was still on fire. Hands shot out to catch him, and he couldn't hold back a grunt of pain as they seized his front.

"Cas?" Sam called.

"I- I'm…" He fumbled at his shirt. "I don't know."

Sam reached past his clumsy fingers and picked at the edges of his collar. He sucked in a sharp breath. "Shit." He undid the top buttons, while Castiel continued to slowly sink lower.

"Oh my god, what is that?" Sam gasped.

Castiel glanced down, finally able to get a look at what Asmodeus had done to him. He'd apparently carved a brand into Castiel's chest.

"It- it's a…a binding." His legs suddenly felt boneless.

Hands lashed out to grab his arms and hold him up.

"Shit," Dean echoed. "Okay, easy, easy. What do we do?"

"I- I don't know," Castiel mumbled, and finally gave in to the call of darkness.

* * *

Dean's heart dropped into his stomach when Cas became dead weight in his arms. "Whoa," he exclaimed as he and Sam kept the angel upright between them. "Shit. Sam?"

"I don't know," his brother replied, obviously on the verge of freaking out as well. "We should find someplace safe, and I can start looking into…that."

Dean nodded. Good, a plan was good. He cast one last look at the bodies, stomach clenching as he took in the brutal slaughter of yet another newlywed pair. At least the rest of Las Vegas's happy couples could enjoy their honeymoons now.

They got Cas to the car, and then Dean booked it to the closest motel. By then, the angel was coming round again, much to Dean's relief.

"Hey, buddy, how you doin'?" Dean asked as he crouched down in the open door of the backseat where Cas was starting to sit up.

Cas blinked at him blearily, then down at his chest. He didn't respond.

"Okay, come on." Dean reached in to help him out, and half carried Cas from the car to the room Sam had rented. Dean eased the angel onto the nearest bed so he was laying down, then stepped back. He ran a hand through his hair at the sight of the inflamed gashes on Cas's chest and the macabre symbol they painted in red.

Sam went and sat on the edge of the bed next to the angel. "Cas, you said this was a binding?"

Cas nodded, lifting his head to look at the marks. "I can't reach my grace."

Crap, that wasn't good.

"How do we neutralize it?" Sam asked.

Cas thunked his head back against the pillows and squeezed his eyes shut. "It- it should heal, eventually."

"Okay," Dean said. "So, you'll basically be playing human until then?"

"I'm afraid so."

Sam reached out and squeezed Cas's arm. "No worries, Cas. And hey, it'll be nice having you stick around for a bit."

Cas blinked at him as though stunned by the statement.

Dean went to their bags and dug out the first aid kit, which he handed to Sam before dragging a chair over to Cas's other side. The angel eyed them uncertainly as they unpacked the antiseptic and gauze.

Dean leaned forward to unbutton the rest of Cas's shirt, but paused when Cas tensed. "We're just gonna patch you up," he assured the angel. "You in pain?"

Cas waited a beat, but then nodded slowly, grudgingly.

"We've got some salve for that," Sam said.

Dean carefully undid the last few buttons and pushed the shirt aside. Then he and Sam set to cleaning and dressing the marks with antiseptic and bandages. Cas kept his jaw clenched the entire time, stoically enduring the process. Dean felt bad for the guy.

Once done, Cas looked exhausted. Dean patted his leg reassuringly while Sam started cleaning up the supplies.

"Get some rest," Dean said.

"I don't want to sleep," Cas mumbled, even as his eyelids were drooping.

Dean opened his mouth to call Cas a big baby, but stopped himself. He didn't know if Cas being cut off from his grace meant he might be susceptible to nightmares as a human, and what he'd just gone through had probably been traumatic, even for an angel—Cas was far from the heartless dick Dean had once accused him of being.

"Sam and I are right here," Dean said instead. "And we're not going anywhere."

He caught his brother giving him an odd look, which Dean just shrugged off. Sam, however, didn't try to tease him for going soft. He simply finished packing up the first aid kit and then fishing out an extra blanket from the closet, which he draped over the now unconscious angel.

"You know," Sam started, "I can sit with him, if you still want to go out."

Dean considered it for a brief moment, but then shook his head and leaned back in the chair beside the bed. "Nah, I'm good."

Sam frowned. "Dean, it's okay. I know you look forward to this holiday every year. Cas won't mind."

Dean watched the steady rise and fall of Cas's chest as he slept. They'd come pretty close to losing the angel for good tonight.

"Sometimes there are more important things," he said.

Sam studied him for a moment longer, but then his mouth quirked in a quarter smile. "Yeah. I'll put on a pot of coffee."

They'd both be settling in to watch over their friend.


End file.
